


he turns orange in the fall

by orphan_account



Category: The Yogscast
Genre: GAY! OFFICIALLY GAY! OFFICIALLY GAY GAY GAY GAY!!!, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-14
Updated: 2013-09-14
Packaged: 2017-12-26 13:17:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 775
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/966375
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The flowering boy laughs and prattles on about how Toby’s like his mother, patting the old tree they sit against. Toby and Littlewood wrestle for a while before Toby continues reading and his friend continues to shred book pages.</p>
            </blockquote>





	he turns orange in the fall

**Author's Note:**

> im gay trash i told you but ???? u guys like it. u liked sjips on tumb. THIS IS SOTOTALLYLITTLEWOOD AND ITS LITTLEWOOD THE SEASON-CHANGING TREE SPIRIT AND TOBY THE HUMAN. im so sorry. so sr. WARNINGS FOR FUCKING GAY. THATS IT im pretty tame sorry i will warm up to the idea of kinky shit i used to write a lot of kinky yoggy bits

Littlewood turns green in the Summer. Lichens grow between his toes and moss grows in the laugh lines on his cheeks and Toby falls in love. The dewdrops collect on Littlewood’s eyelashes when they sleep outside and he never notices until Toby brings up his shirt to wipe his wet face off for good morning kisses. Flowers tangle in his hair from nowhere and his fingers feel warm.

They sit under the shade of Littlewood’s Mother Tree and their hands intertwine.

"Hey, Littlewood?" Toby asks, pausing from the book he’s reading.

"What?" Littlewood replies, pausing from the book that he has been shredding through his teeth, one that Toby had already read.

"Nothing," he passed off. "I was just making sure you were listening. I was reading and you got rather loud!"

The flowering boy laughs and prattles on about how Toby’s like his mother, patting the old tree they sit against. Toby and Littlewood wrestle for a while before Toby continues reading and his friend continues to shred book pages.

Littlewood turns orange in the Fall. He fights, protects Toby from the monsters who know now that is is too chilly for a kip in the afternoon shade and now venture closer to their camp in the wood. Toby collects food with him for the winter and notices the gleam in his eyes, the seriousness and the stony stare. It isn’t as though he minds, really. He still warms Littlewood’s face in his hands and kisses the dewdrops away.

They play in the mud and in piles of leaves together. (Toby and Littlewood both look young, Littlewood justifies, and so they are considered to be playing. Toby can’t bring himself to disagree.) They roast apples over the fire and grimace when they taste bad and they pick Honeysuckle flowers that are nearly wilted and drink the nectar from them. 

Toby cuts his finger sometimes cleaning fish and Littlewood scolds him, prattling on about how Toby should be more careful. Toby falls in love with this part of him, calm and relaxed and always cold to the touch but never far from warmth.

Littlewood turns blue in the Winter. His stony stare is now that of a glacier, and his sly digs and remarks dig into Toby like an icicle. Spending time with Littlewood makes his head ache and his muscles, too. He’s always tense around his friend in the winter. Littlewood makes it difficult to breathe in the winter.

Still, they decorate a Christmas tree and sing silly Christmas songs and exchange gifts. Christmas Eve warms Littlewood’s heart and he receives a new sword. Toby gets three new books and they are both so pleased with each other that they sit by the fire all night, picking off skeletons with bows and arrows until the sun rises. 

His toes are cold and his fingers snake around Toby’s cheeks and they feel like ice when he wipes the fallen snow from Toby’s eyelashes.Toby feels like he’s drowning and he doesn’t know why. Littlewood and Toby pee in the snow and make curse words in it and the snow falls thicker than ever. Littlewood bolts through the forest as he knows how and Toby trudges at his human pace, slow and steady. He feels frozen to the bone.

Littlewood turns a soft peach in the Spring, happy and bubbly and ‘Hello, Toby!’ for a season. His hands are the Fall-cool again, but they hold a buzzing something underneath. Instead of body hair, Littlewood sprouts vines and leaves. He grins and shows them off to Toby, laughing at the flowers that poke out from behind his ears in the sunlight.

He kisses up Toby’s face and onto his lips and sometimes even below and Toby’s face lights up like a Christmas tree and it feels like this is what Christmas would be like at home. He isn’t at home, he scolds himself, he’s with Littlewood, and he’s happy.

Toby and Littlewood help the saplings stand up straight and speak properly and Toby reads to the budding forest and Littlewood swings around him on vines, napping in the thick foliage. The trees bend to Toby and he bends back and when the sun sets, he has to shake Littlewood down from a tree to get him to the tent.

They scoot their beds together during the spring, tossing their chests to the sides of the tent. Littlewood’s feet still feel like ice and Toby’s not sure that ever changes. He kisses Littlewood’s nose and for the first time in a long time, when he wakes up, Littlewood’s face isn’t coated with dew and Toby kisses him awake.


End file.
